


Ru Blood

by strangeh (Elfgrandfather)



Series: Putin/Medvedev Archaeological Dig (Old Fics) [6]
Category: Political RPF - Russian 21st c.
Genre: Alternate Universe - True Blood Fusion, Gen, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 20:44:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18785875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfgrandfather/pseuds/strangeh
Summary: When vampires make themselves known to the world, Dmitry Medvedev's job becomes a lot harder, and Vladimir Putin's decision to join the ranks of the undead doesn't make things any easier. It's Rupol True Blood babey(incomplete 4ever)





	Ru Blood

**Author's Note:**

> This was the last fic I wrote for this fandom so even though it's set up for a multi-part series, there's no follow-up. I'd actually finished the second chapter, but it was lost when my computer perished and I never bothered rewriting it. I didn't have the whole series planned out, but I had some ideas for fun interactions with other politicians around the issue of vampire assimilation and so on, so I wish I'd had the motivation to do more in this universe. Oh well!
> 
> Obviously based on True Blood, which was very in vogue when I wrote this.

Ten new bodies today, in Moscow alone. They’d been found in the usual spots: alleys, bushes, car parks. We were lucky, in some respects: there had been no children this time, and only one of the corpses had been… beheaded. Decapitated sounds too surgical, I think. It puts one in mind of the sort of sharp cut a guillotine would provide. The ones we found were never surgical. They were torn off.  
All them had, as was becoming more and more customary, been found exsanguinated, with one or more pairs of perfect little puncture holes on an artery. Often the neck. Sometimes the groin.  
  
I’d been working nine-to-nine shifts almost every day since the Great Revelation. The moment the smart-looking, soft-spoken woman on television had finished her announcement, all the phones in the office started ringing: Paris, Washington, London, Berlin. They’d all called to confirm this had been broadcast in every country. The official broadcast, appearing everywhere at the same time (as it happened, at around twenty-two hundred hours here).  
  
Being rushed to the office in the middle of the night, cameras flashing everywhere, and the same word on everyone’s lips: vampire. Was this real? What were the implications? What’s my favourite vampire film?  
I couldn’t do much more than blink at all of this. You know that feeling you have when you’ve just heard someone has died? When you initially shrug it off, and the enormity of what happened hits you like a sack of doorknobs a few hours later? I was still only getting into the ‘shrugging off’ part of the entire thing. It was like a dream, Dvorkovich walking me to one of the conference rooms and talking in a detached voice about there being a representative of the Russian vampire community to see me, to discuss all of this properly, schedule further meetings the day after.  
  
All I could do was blink.  
  
Standing outside the conference room, I was briefed on some quick basic etiquette. Remove my silver watch. Don’t flinch at the representative’s temperature when I shook her hand. No jabs about fangs.  
  
All I could do was blink.  
  
‘None of this makes any sense…’ I could tell the attendants were about to reply, when the sound of a door opening was heard from the end of the corridor. Vladimir Vladimirovich walked in, still doing up his tie, blank mask firmly in place. A sudden wave of relief washed over me when I saw him. If Volodya was here, things would be okay. He caught my eye and gave my arm a reassuring squeeze. The attendants made to move towards him, but he stopped them with a glance.  
  
‘I’ve already been given the talks,’ he said, in a tone more suited for tea than a meeting with a mythological creature, ‘show us in.’  
  
My memories of that meeting are vague. We were given the explanation everyone knows now: with the advent of synthetic blood, vampires could freely live among us, no longer having to rely on humans for food. No longer forced to be a danger. Volodya seemed fascinated, listening intently to every word, sometimes addressing me but mostly focusing on the prettily made up woman in front of him.  
  
I stared at her for the entire meeting. At her white skin, her slightly reddened eyes, the way her little pale pink tongue would sometimes pass over her carmine-painted lips.  
  
She did, indeed, look quite dead.  
  
I remember that we came out of that encounter satisfied that everything would be alright. She would keep the vampire community informed, and we would prepare the public. A speech was scheduled the day after. Everything would be fine.  
  
Six months later, I could hardly keep track of what was going on. The humans struck first by killing the representative with a wooden stake as she exited the first Russian human-vampire alliance rally (strongly condemned by Vladimir Vladimirovich), then individual vampires responded by picking out select human targets (strongly condemned by the Russian Vampire League), and so on, with most of the anti-vampire violence taking place in rural areas and most of the anti-human attacks in large cities. The fires were fuelled by religious extremists and Neo-Nazis, both of whom used to be a good way of keeping tabs on the people, and both of whom were now giant liabilities. Volodya’s repeated assertions about the need for cooperation had managed to slow things down slightly, but the war showed no sign of actually stopping. It was the beginning of Spring; the nights were getting shorter and Volodya was on his yearly trip to the mountains. The workload almost doubles when he’s away, but I was comforted by the fact that he would be coming back soon.  
  
A yawn forced its way out of me, making tears prick out at the corners of my eyes. I could finish reading the report in the morning, after all, all these cases were the same.  
  
The halls were quite silent, only a few people typing away in their offices. The driver was waiting for me outside, so I quickly gathered my things, grabbed my coat and left.  
  
The ride back home was fairly uneventful, though I noted more anti-vampire graffiti than I’d seen on my way to work in the morning. It was always the same sort of stuff, almost all in bright angry red: Vamps Go Back to Hell, what about a russian human league?, NO RIGHTS FOR FANGERS. One, confusingly, simply said Communist Vampire Scum in the Russian tricolour.  
  
I bid my driver goodnight and walked up to the front door, sleepily reaching into my coat pocket and taking out the key, lazily fitting it into the hole.  
  
‘Dima?’  
  
The soft voice had me whirling around, suddenly completely awake and with my back against the door. The last thing I needed was some insanely fast psychopath to lop my head off, especially right in front of my own house. That would just have been embarrassing.  
  
Volodya was standing there, in shirtsleeves, hands behind his back, and a soft, amused little smile on his face. A few of the top buttons of his shirt were open, and I could just about make out a small part of his golden necklace. Relief flooded over me, like a cold wave. The workload would finally be split.  
  
‘Volodya! When did you come back from the Altai?’ my voice was bright. As I approached, he extended his arms, and we fell into a brief hug. He was cold, but that wasn’t surprising: it was only early Spring, and he wasn’t wearing much.  
  
‘Just now,’ his voice continued in its usual smooth tone as he patted my upper arm, ‘I have some matters I needed to discuss with you, urgently.’  
  
‘Ah,’ my smile faltered somewhat. I had been hoping to catch a good night’s rest, but when Vladimir Vladimirovich needed to talk something over, it couldn’t be put off until later. I’d lost track of the times I’d almost thrown my phone out of the window at a late-night conference call. He wouldn’t insist if you refused, wouldn’t even be mad, but he’d get that look in his eye that spoke of disappointment, and it would stay there for days. An off-hand Vladimir Vladimirovich is very tiresome to deal with. ‘Of course. Nothing too serious, I hope?’  
  
‘It’s subjective.’ And that was that, then. If that was all he cared to share, I predicted that I’d be in for a very large earful of some horrifying news. And I really wanted to go to bed. The door clicked, and I walked into the main hall of the Presidential house. A few members of house and security staff were still walking around, waiting for me and keen to retire. I still felt awkward walking into this house, even after having been President for almost a year. Volodya was still standing in the entrance, peering inside the house.  
  
‘Come in, then, unless you’re enjoying the cold. What did you do with your jacket?’  
  
He stood at the door a few seconds longer, still looking in, then walked over to me at a leisurely pace. His face bore the same expression it did when I’d first seen him, but I could see that his mind was working. Planning. As it always was.  
  
‘It’s in the car. You know how it is, when you're inside, it gets too hot, and when you step out, it’s Siberia. The breeze is refreshing, I think.’  
  
‘I see,’ we walked up one flight of stairs, our footsteps muffled by the plush carpet, not that our noise would have disturbed anyone, since Ilya and Sveta were presently away. I had sent them back for a little retreat in St Petersburg, where the human-vampire conflict seemed to have died down almost completely. ‘I hope you won’t mind the little fire that’s been stoked in my study, then. We could go elsewhere.’  
  
‘It’s fine,’ he seemed somehow disconnected from the conversation, which didn’t bode well. I wondered what could have happened for him to be so… stoic. Butterflies gathered at the bottom of my stomach.  
  
As we walked to one of the offices, making idle conversation, I was acutely aware of how he looked around the corridors. It all used to belong to him, of course. He’d been between these walls countless times, and, in all likelihood, he’d be coming back in a few years. But that was the future, and with events like the Great Revelation, it seemed stupid to try and plan out what would happen. I looked over at Volodya. He was still watching.  
  
I poured out two small glasses of whiskey, which I knew he liked, and settled in front of him on a plush sofa opposite his. He gently whirled his drink in his glass, eyes set on the liquid. The small, comfortable silence quickly became a long and awkward stretch of time. I cleared my throat.  
  
‘So, Volodya. What did you want to talk about?’ my elbows were on my knees, and I held my own glass by my fingertips, swaying it back and forth.  
  
‘How have you been dealing with the conflict in my absence, Dima? I understand that this silly war is ongoing. I thought it would have been mostly over by the time I returned. It seemed like a good time for a vacation. I hope you haven’t been overworked, I asked Slava to give you an extra hand.’  
  
Surkov had been a great help, but there’s only so much a mime can do. Speaking from personal experience and in the friendliest of ways, of course.   
  
‘It’s great to have you back, really, Volodya. I feel like we’ll all be able to breathe easier, you’re good at talking with both the vampires and the humans.’  
  
‘It wouldn’t do any good to make enemies out of the vampires, would it, Dima?’ He set his untouched whiskey on the coffee table and leaned back in the sofa, clasping his hands together thoughtfully. ‘They’re much better allies. Imagine the progress that could be made if we all worked together? They’re so efficient. They could do the work of hundreds.’  
  
‘True.’ I smiled nervously before taking a quick shot of my drink. Volodya had had an increasingly frequent tendency towards elaborate flattering statements towards the vampire kind, and I must admit it made me a little uncomfortable. Both his language and the fact that he’d gotten over the Great Revelation so quickly, while I was still dealing with the aftershocks of accepting this reality.  
  
Then again, I hadn’t been in the KGB.  
  
‘You’ve got to admit that it’d be a pretty big liability as far as job creation goes though, one man replacing on hundred.’  
  
‘I don’t know how many men will still be standing in the future, if we keep letting this conflict carry on. I’m sure we can do better.’  
  
‘Right. Is that what you wanted to talk about, what can be done?’  
  
He looked up from his hands and into my eyes, and a shiver ran down my spine. They were a rare, pure blue, different from his usual sea-grey. I was surprised to see a hint of redness about them, like he’d been up for days. My hand stopped moving the glass, my grip slackened. There were only the eyes, and it was terrifying and exhilarating and beautiful at the same time. He leaned forward without breaking eye contact, and smiled a little smile.  
  
‘Yes. There are a lot of things that can be done, Dima,’ his voice was smoother than usual, like sound silk. Any stress I still had left over from the day evaporated, and I felt almost lulled by his tone. ‘Tighter police control, for instance. We could get more people out into the street, to manage crowds. Perhaps an internet filter.’  
  
‘The people wouldn’t like that,’ escaped my mouth immediately. I hadn’t thought about the answer at all, but then again, I didn’t feel inclined to think.  
  
‘The people don’t know what’s best for them, remember?’ words like clouds, ‘that’s why we have jobs. If they knew what’s best for them, they wouldn’t be attacking the vampire community in the first place, would they? They wouldn’t plead for our help, would they?’  
  
‘No, you’re right.’  
  
‘Good, Dima.’  
  
A little smile formed on my lips. The praise was nice. It made me light up.  
  
‘Now, another measure would be to introduce more vampires in jobs. It doesn’t have to be publicly known, but we’ll secretly introduce them into the police force, for night shifts. They’ll be so much more effective, you see.’  
  
‘Yes. We can save on bullets, they don’t need bullets. They can just stop people single-handedly, I guess.’  
  
‘That’s right. Put the idea to Surkov. I’ll-‘  
  
That’s the moment where the glass finally slipped out of my grasp completely and fell straight onto the floor, colliding with the hard wood and breaking into sharp little shards, liquid spilling. Volodya gave a surprised little grunt and broke eye contact, and that’s when I blinked and fell back into the sofa. What the hell just happened? My hand flew to my chest and I could feel my heart racing, like I’d just run a marathon.  
  
We sat in silence for a few seconds before I reached down to fuss over the broken glass, trying to dispel the awkward atmosphere that had just come down. I have to admit that I have occasionally caught myself looking at Volodya in rather untraditional ways, but it seemed ridiculous to suddenly be transfixed by his eyes.  
  
‘Look at this,’ I said with a nervous laugh, ‘what a mess. Sveta likes this glass set too, she bought it for me. I hope she won’t notice!’  
  
I was distractedly picking up the shards of glass and before he could reply, I felt one piece cutting into my finger. Somehow, the powers that be seem to have a love of getting me to cut myself on all sorts of things. Paper is my worst enemy. I winced and put the finger to my mouth, tasting blood, then looked to judge the damage. The cut was clean, but quite deep, enough to allow a small but steady drop to keep appearing whenever I got it off. I was about to make some self-deprecating remark when I heard a little click coming from Volodya’s direction.  
  
I didn’t expect to see what I saw when I turned. I’m not sure what I thought it was; a phone message tone, him dropping something, him putting his glass down. Something like that.  
  
I certainly didn’t expect to see him looking at my hand with his mouth slightly open and with two, long fangs either side of his two front teeth.  
  
One usually doesn’t expect that, does one?  
  
I sat there, still holding my hurt hand as he hurriedly retracted them, briefly covering his mouth and frowning.  
  
‘Shit, I’m sorry, Dima, this, hm, this doesn’t usually happen. I can control it,’ he looked at me with the same frown in place, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he’d have been blushing. If he weren’t Volodya. And dead.  
  
It hit me just then. He was dead.  
  
‘I suppose they come out on their own when there’s blood around, I didn’t expect it. That’s horribly embarrassing, I’ll have to learn to get that in hand.’  
  
I still couldn’t do more than sit there. My own mouth hung open slightly. Everything that had happened before suddenly made perfect sense, while making no sense at all. In a tiny corner of my mind, I have to say I was relieved that the fascination I’d had for his eyes had an explanation, at least, I’m fairly certain it did. Reports of vampires charming humans into submissions, “glamouring” them, as it was called, had been popping up around the world. He clasped his hands together again and cleared his throat.  
  
‘So, hm, yes. This is what I came here to talk about, Dima. I apologize about it taking so long, it is hard to work the topic into a conversation. I was going to glamour it into you, but it’s still a skill I need to perfect. Not get distracted so easily. Plus, you were surprisingly hard to glamour, I had to work on you since the front door.’  
  
‘You’re a vampire?’  
  
His previously affable face took on an expression that lay somewhere between ‘are you retarded?’ and ‘dear god, not this again.’ It was somewhat comforting in its familiarity.  
  
‘Well, yes. As I just intimated,’ an eyebrow raised, ‘when my fangs came out?’  
  
I’d already understood that, but hearing it confirmed made everything seem frighteningly real. There was no point in pinching myself, the throbbing pain in my finger assured me that this was no dream. Feelings raced through me for a moment, until I impulsively sprung to my feet and approached him, grasping his arm.  
  
‘Who did this to you?’   
  
‘Excuse me?’  
  
‘Who made you a vampire?’ my tone got higher, and I could feel tears at the back of my eyes. He was  **dead**. It didn’t make any sense that he’d be so calm about it!  
  
‘Don’t be silly,’ he sounded weary, and shrugged his arm with enough force to almost topple me backwards. ‘No one  **forced**  me into this, Dima, it’s just... an upgrade.’  
  
I frowned, starting to feel the same vague sense of confusion that often took me over during late-night talks with Volodya.  
  
‘An upgrade?’  
  
He looked at me incredulously, elbows on knees and palms spread open. ‘Of course, an upgrade. I’ve never felt so incredible in my entire life, Dima. Any aches that were starting to appear recently are gone. I don’t need to wear glasses anymore. Don’t you see? Vampires are just the next step in human evolution, Dima. You must see, you’re not an idiot.’  
  
‘But – but you’re dead!’ I said, gesturing in his direction, trying to keep my voice at normal levels. I really didn’t need someone from the housekeeping staff in here right now.  
  
He quirked his lip and gestured at himself, nodding slightly, ‘do I look dead to you?’


End file.
